Hidden Agenda

Although the blacksmith had retired for the night, you still felt nervous taking your crossbow out of its place. You followed Zevran wordlessly into the basement, your eyes scanning the Tentitaver statues anxiously. You remembered how the talking statue had warned Zevran about ‘walking corpses’. You clutched the crossbow tighter and swallowed a lump in your throat as the two of you approached the storage. “Nathaniel taught me pretty well but if there’s really…something in the cellar, I’m not sure if I…” you trailed off as Zevran pulled the robe off his shoulders.
As the silkly garment floated to the floor, your eyes became locked on the large leather hump on his back. You realized it was a flap used to hide the handles of two swords connected to a leather strap; the blades of the swords tucked into the tight fabric of Zevran’s black pants. “Do you like them?” Zevran asked, turning to face you. Your eyes glided up his rippled chest to his face. “My pants are made from an Antivan invention called ‘elastic’. Snug but weightless. It is a like a second layer of skin.” He explained. They were so snug you found yourself fighting to keep your gaze above his waist. Zevran slowly reached over his back, lifting the flap and taking out the swords, gave them a little twirl. One was longer than the other, the shorter one made of red steel. Amusement clouded his face. “Did you think I would rely on your prowess alone ~~~~~~~~?” he asked.
“…Where..did you get those?” you asked, remembering the only red-steeled blade you’d ever seen had belonged to Master Rye.
“Picked them up in my travels.”
“And you brought them along with you? And that…get-up to hide them?”
Zevran sighed, lowering his arms, the blades scraping against the floor. “I see trying to evade the truth from you any longer would be a mistake.” He mused. “Why am I here? To kill Howe….though between you and me, I think I would be doing Ferelden a favor if I killed his mother-in-law too. She is a vile woman.”
“You’re…an assassin?” you blurted.
“Good guess.” Zevran smiled. “Did the leather pouch give me away?” he wondered.
“..Who hired you to kill Howe?”
“I’m sure most who meet him would prefer him dead, but this is an act of revenge.”
“What do you mean?” you murmured.
“You heard Howe talking about Fergus Cousland yes? His family wasn’t killed by robbers, Howe hired some bandits to murder them.” Zevran responded.
“Murder them? But why?” you blurted.
“The Couslands and Howes have been friends long before they bore children. Brice Cousland swore to Redden Howe that his first-born child would marry Howe’s first-born. Fergus Cousland and Delilah Howe were meant to be…at least in Howe’s twisted mind.” Zevran explained.
Your eyes took a break from Zevran’s face. Howe was a small, shriveled, cruel fool…but you had never thought he was crazy. “….Nathaniel.” you murmured.
“I’ve only been hired to kill Howe but if you desire Nathaniel dead too…” Zevran began.
“What? NO! Nathaniel’s leaving for the Free Marshes tomorrow, you have to wait…”
“I cant..”
“What? Why?” you pressed.
“Because I’ve already begun!” Zevran replied, meekly raising his toned shoulders.
You stared. “What do you mean you already begun?” you asked.
“You remember I got the glasses for the ale yes? When I did, I laced the rims with an Antivan draft that encourages sleep. You may have noticed I served Howe first. The draft effects the drinker the moment it touches a person’s lips, meaning he’ll be the first to wake from his slumber. That gives me a small amount of time to kill him before his family awakes too.” Zevran answered.
“….Why didn’t you just poison Howe?” you blurted.
“Pah! Poisons are for amateurs. Besides, Fergus wants Howe’s head. I’m going to assume that means he wants my sword to separate it from Howe’s shoulders…though he did not seem the type of fellow to expect me to return with Howe’s head in a bag.” Zevran mused. You shuddered despite yourself. “Might I remind you we have business in the cellar? The sleeping draft will ensure we aren’t interrupted from whatever awaits us. Now let’s get a move on shall we? We don’t have all night.”
“Uh…” you stammered as Zev brushed past you into storage. “Do we have to do this?!’ Zevran paused, glancing back at you. “If Fergus Cousland hired you, he must have paid you a lot of coin right? Why be greedy when it could get you killed?”
“I wasn’t paid anything, the Crowes however were paid quite handsomely so I hear.” Zevran replied.
“….You’re doing the assassinating but the Crowes rake in the profit?”
“We assassins are nothing but tools of murder my dear lady. But I understand your confusion. There are other rewards to being an assassin. Coin is just not one of them. Now unless you’re quite content serving the Howes, let us fetch something worth a few sovereigns so we can flee richly.”
“Um…what?” you murmured. Zevran sighed, lowering his head in annoyance. “You want me to come with you?” you asked as he slowly spun around.
“After I’ve killed Howe I….have another assassination that needs to be carried out and I think I could use your help…Not..with the actual assassinating, of course. But I believe your beauty will come in handy.” Zevran responded. You opened your mouth but Zevran continued: “I promise to explain the next assassination after we’ve finished with this one. Alright?” Studying him, you nodded. “Good. Let’s go, I’m sick of this statue whispering in my ear. It’s making my head hurt.” Zevran finished, turning around as he stepped into storage. You hadn’t heard anything. As you followed Zev, you paused to glace at the Tentitaver statue in the corner.
‘Keep walking. You elves have wasted enough time.’
You expected Zevran to respond, but he didn’t seem to hear it.
‘I speak through your mind girl. Even a gemlock could figure that out…’
Your attention returned to the statue. A what?
‘MOVE!’
You jumped at its voice thundering through your head.

Leading out of storage was a hallway you had never been in before, though it looked the same as the others, even the stairs to the lower level were identical. However when you stepped into the next room, you were utterly shocked at what you saw. On either wall was a large jail cell, filled with seven people each. There was clearly something wrong with these people, their eyes were silky as if made of mildew, their pale faces riddled with holes were skin had simply rotted in.
“Ghouls.” Zevran noted, the word rolling off his tongue.
“G-Ghouls?” you repeated.
“Rabid humans that eat flesh.” Zevran explained, stepping closer to the jail cell on the right. “Odd that Howe would want them as pets. Perhaps he keeps them to feast on his enemies no?” Zev suggested, casting a glance at you. One of the ghouls inhaled deeply, blinking its eyes blankly. The next moment it charged at the jail door, causing Zev to jump back. “Maker!” he blurted. He turned his gaze to you again. “Did you see….?”
Suddenly the jail door clanked open under the fury of the ghouls, spilling them out onto Zevran. “ZEV-!” you cried….His swords sliced through the stomachs of two ghouls on either side of him, then his left sword sliced into the chest of a third ghoul while his right sword gutted a fourth and beheaded a fifth. “-ran..” you finished as the bodies of the ghouls thumped to the floor.
Zevran was sprinkled with blood from neck to thigh, but he wasn’t even breathless. “That was excerlating…But not for you. Hopefully there is more fun to be had in the cellar.” He gestured at a door niched beside the left jail cell…which was still full of ghouls. Zevran seemed to become aware of this the same time as you. “Course I could also release those ghouls if you’re feeling left out.” He offered.
“…No thanks.”
“You sure?”
“Very.” You said with a nod.
“Alright.” Zevran sighed, sheathing his swords as he walked towards the cellar door. Just as his fingers closed around the dusty lock, you heard a noise behind you causing you to glance over your shoulder. There stood a man with messy blonde hair pulled back, his robes powder-blue with teal leather. “Than perhaps you’d be interested in taking down the mage?” Zevran added, over the soft sound of the lock clinking open.
The mage scoffed, though not in a crude way. “I’m not here to fight.” He said with a sharp accent. His hazel eyes combed over you, hovering on your crossbow. “Though from the look of you two, you are. Hm. And here I thought you were two elven lovers seeking somewhere secluded to have a tryst.”
“All in good time.” Zevran replied earning your attention. “Now who are you?”
“Anders, Zev-ran.” Anders responded.
“How did you know that?” Zev asked taking a step towards him.
“Your girlfriend blurted it.” Anders nodded at you. “Suppose you were too busy slaying my former pursuers to notice.” He continued, his gaze sweeping over the bloodless bodies of the ghouls.
“You’re saying those men were once templars?” Zevran pressed.
“Yes. Before Jowan’s magic affected them..” Anders replied, crossing his arms as Zevran walked past him to examine the ghouls still caged.
“How very unimpressive they are without their armor…” Zevran murmured.
“Wait who’s Jowan?” you asked.
“She speaks!” Anders noted. Your cheeks warmed slightly as Anders came closer. “And what’s your name pretty little thing?” he asked, tracing a finger along your cheekbone.
You opened your mouth to speak but Zevran spoke: “Why are you here if not to stop us?” You thought you detected a hint of anger in his voice as he retreated to your side…then you noticed the glare outlining his features as he leered up at Anders. Not anger, jealousy.
“I am here to stop you, actually. I was working around to that.” Anders replied with a smirk. “Not to tell you his business, but Jowan is a blood mage.”
“So instead of lyrium he uses his own blood to cast spells..” Zevran responded in a half-question.
“Lyrium runs in our very veins! It’s just sometimes we need a boost to get the magic going.” Anders paused. “Or that’s how Jowan sees it. I’ve never cared for blood magic myself. Anyhow, it’s forbidden in the Circle so when they found out, Jowan was forced to flee to avoid becoming tranquil.”
“What’s that?” you murmured.
Anders hestiated. “…It’s….a long story.” He replied.
“Well we don’t have the time to hear it,” Zevran said rudely. “Come ~~~~~~~~~~ let’s…”
“~~~~~~~~~~~ is it?” Anders interrupted. “What a lovely name.”
“Enough wooing mage, that is my job!” Zevran snapped.
“Well you’re not doing it now are you?” Anders mocked. Zevran muttered darkly as he pushed open the cellar door. It creaked open to reveal a stairway leading into darkness. “Alright joking aside, you don’t want to go in there.”
“Why not? Did you and Jowan already steal the treasures?” Zevran asked.
Anders eyes narrowed. “Treasures? What are you talking about? There’s nothing down there but…” he began.
“You cant fool me mage.” Zevran interrupted, starting down the stairs.
You glanced at Anders but he just shrugged. “Follow him if you’d like.” He said.
“What’s down there?” you asked.
A smirk twisted on his lips. “A locked door.” Anders answered.
Turning, you saw Zevran returning up the stairs. “There is indeed a locked door but there are also statues on either side of the upper floor with keyholes. Where are the keys?” he greeted.
“I could tell you, but that would ruin the surprise.” Anders replied.
“We do not have time for your game. The sleeping drafts should’ve started working by…” Zevran trailed off as he slumpt to the floor.
You blinked. “Zevran?” you blurted poking his ribcage with your toe. Your eyes traveled to Anders. “What did you do?” you demanded.
“Me? Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anders laughed. “Or him for that matter.” He added glancing down at Zevran. “Didn’t he say something about a sleeping draft working?”
Your brain clicked. Zevran’s voice echoed in your mind. ‘You remember I got the glasses for the ale yes? When I did, I laced the rims with an Antivan draft that encourages sleep.’ Then you saw Zevran taking a sip of the glass you had overfilled.
“He drugged himself.” You murmured staring down at Zev.
“What’d he do that for?” Anders asked.
“It was an accident…” you answered. Then realization hit you. “Damn! Now he cant kill Howe.” You said to yourself.
“Kill Howe?” Anders repeated. You grimaced as Anders looked from you to Zevran. “You mean to tell me he’s an assassin? Him? I don’t believe it.”
You grabbed his hand without thinking. “Please don’t tell.” You said.
“Tell? Who am I going to tell? Howe doesn’t even know I’m down here.” Anders replied.
“..What?”
“He hired Jowan not me. I’m just here to keep the poor sap company.”
“Wait Howe hired Jowan for what?” you pressed.
“To use blood magic to protect his precious Avvar.” Anders said. Your eyes narrowed. “Avvar. It’s a resurrected Tentivatar lord.”
“Tentivatar?…Like the talking statue?” you asked.
“Well yes. They’re from the same era….So it talked to you too then? Here I thought I was special. Perhaps I’m turning into Finn.”
“Who?”
“Another mage, a friend of mine. He remains at the Circle though. Helps me escape when I get caught.” Anders explained.
“What do you mean?” you murmured.
Anders opened his mouth, then looked down at Zevran. “Forget it. Why don’t I wake your friend up so you can continue your assassination business? I doubt Jowan will care if he’s out of work. Howe forgets to feed him half the time.” Anders responded. That sounded just like Howe. Anders crossed his arms over his chest then raised them into the air. Zevran awoke with a start. “Evening friend. I’m afraid I bored you to sleep.” Zevran slowly sat up. “But you’re rejuvenated now so run along and kill Howe would you? I hear he’s a real bastard.” Anders finished.
Zevran’s eyes found yours. “What happened?” he asked drowsily.
“Remember how I overfilled that glass while I was listening to Nan?” you replied.
Zevran stared a minute then grimaced. “Oh.” He said, getting to his feet.
“Good thing you didn’t try to poison him eh?” Anders spoke up.
“Only amateurs use poison.”
“Amateurs. Right.”
Zevran glared but Anders was unfazed. Swallowing an uncomfortable lump in your throat you asked “Do you think Howe’s still out?”
“Possibly. I cant quite remember when I drank out of that glass but I know it was after I served him.” Zevran answered. His eyes narrowed into a leer as he glanced at Anders. “I daresay we’ve wasted too much time to be sure. I have to go after Howe now.”
“Well don’t let us stop you.” Anders replied.
“And don’t let him stop you from going into the cellar.” Zevran told you. His shoulder crashed into Anders’s as he headed for the exit.
“I..I don’t want to.” You blurted. Zevran paused. “There’s a resurrected…Avvar down there. I don’t really know what that means but…”
“It means we could get a hefty sum of coin from the armor it’s wearing.” Zevran interrupted. “Wait here. Once I’m through with Howe, I’ll return and we’ll take the Avvar apart.” Zevran smiled. “…Unless of course the mages are interested in helping you.” He challenged.
“Jowan and I have fought it plenty of times – it’s not something you can kill with magic alone.” Anders replied.
“Then lucky for you ~~~~~~~~~ knows how to use a bow.” Zevran said.
“Uh wait..” you began.
“That is lucky. C’mon ~~~~~~~~~~.” Anders grabbed your arm. “The three of us will kill the Avvar then rake in the profit.”
“There is no need to rush, I will be back before you know it.” Zevran called as Anders escorted you down the stairs.
“Yea-yea. I can hardly wait.” Anders muttered.